


By Your Side

by Anonymous



Category: DAKAICHI (Anime), 抱かれたい男1位に脅されています。 | Dakaretai Otoko Ichii ni Odosarete Imasu (Manga)
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, Oneshot collection, Some AUs, chuntaka, fluffy stories, same anon who wrote In Sickness and in Health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27199154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A collection of oneshots and teasers or other dakaichi story ideas, now all in one handy spot. Not all based upon requests, but I'll still entertain other prompts and ideas.All stories written by the same anon who wrote In Sickness and In Health
Relationships: Azumaya Junta/Saijou Takato
Comments: 23
Kudos: 44
Collections: Anonymous





	1. All For You~

**Author's Note:**

> a space for all my little ideas and oneshots. The first two were originally posted as their own stories. Eventually, those separate story posts will be removed in favor of this collection. Any ideas that I decide to continue will be transferred to a different post.   
> Requests are also accepted, but I can only work in the order that my inspiration moves in, so I'm afraid I can't guarantee requests will all be filled and be done in order given. 
> 
> Please be sure to leave a comment when you like a story, as it really does mean so much to me.   
> Catch me on Tamago-box's discord if you want to chat. 
> 
> Same anon who wrote In Sickness and In Health

Original Description: Takato plans an elaborate surprise for Junta to celebrate their anniversary, but his nerves threaten to get the better of him.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

"This is for Chunta. I'm doing this for Chunta. This is all for Chunta..."

Takato's mind looped an endless chant in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves; to suck it up and just do it. He couldn't let himself back out now. As scared as he was, as completely embarrassing as this was, as downright excruciating as it was, he simply had to endure it. It wasn't for his own sake; today was all about Junta.

Once, not so long ago, Takato feared the omnipresent looming shadow behind him, dreading the moments he'd strike, carting him off as a hostage while he thrashed and begged for mercy. The past him never would've guessed he'd be here an entire year later, waiting for Junta to return home so they could celebrate their very first 'anniversary'. And he certainly never would've believed the insane lengths he'd be willing to go to make the day special for the man who had forcefully captured his heart.

But here he was, all set up in the apartment like art on display with all his romantic handiwork surrounding him. It had taken weeks of planning and some of the absolute worst shopping trips imaginable, but he was proud of how well it turned out. As flustering and embarrassing as this was for himself, he knew Junta would positively love it. This was finally going to be the special day where Takato's plans eclipsed Junta's. No mountain of presents or prepaid vacations could ever compare to the efforts Takato had put into this very moment. He would show Junta who was the most desirable.

Takato fussed once more with the lacy wisp of cloth around his waist, trying his best to pull the pathetic excuse for a skirt over his hips. The garment was hardly long enough to hide anything, and even if he did manage to pull it down lower, the semi-transparent nature of the entire outfit would offer no modesty whatsoever. Takato felt completely exposed, almost more so than if he had chosen to lay there in no clothes at all. Still, he supposed that was the point, wasn't it? The object here wasn't to hide, but to excite. Besides, he had already checked the large bedroom window thirty times to make sure the curtains completely covered the glass, and he was almost tempted to hot glue them so he could be positive that they stayed there. And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that he was on display for the whole world, and that someone somewhere was laughing at him for how completely ridiculous he looked.

Takato rearranged himself on the bed, striking an equally lazy pose, hoping the movement would distract him from messing with his clothes anymore. A rouge rose petal clung to a part one of his lacy gloves, and he casually plucked it and tossed it aside. He briefly wondered if it was really a good idea to have spread the flower petals all over the bed. Did it really add anything? And now it was just a mess that would need to be cleaned up. Would he be able to vacuum them up? He had laid down an entire trail of petals from the entryway to the room in question. It would be miserable if he had to pick them all up one by one. And what of the candles? Takato slowly turned, studying the careful array of scented candles that illuminated the room. He had specifically chosen the candles with that dark oaky scent that Junta insisted smelled just like Takato's own natural aroma. But that smell only came in bright orange candles. Takato winced; would he be stuck scraping neon orange wax off of every hard surface in here? And did the little metal tins at the base of each candle go in the trash, or did they need recycling? He breathed a growling sigh; why did these romantic set ups have to be such a mess?

Just as Takato was wondering how much longer he would have to wait, he heard the specific sound of someone walking down the apartment complex's hallway. He knew immediately that it was Junta. His ears had become fine tuned to the rhythm of his particular gait. Junta was home from work. It was showtime. Now it was up to Takato to play his part.

Takato's heart thundered in his chest. This was the moment of truth. He just had to steel himself for this last hurdle. There was no turning back now. Sweat cascaded from his brow and his entire lanky frame began to shake uncontrollably.

"It's for Chunta." He tried to remind himself. "You have to do it for Chunta!"

The footsteps beyond the entrance came to a halt just outside the door, and Takato knew Junta was searching for his key. Soon he would come through that door, follow the petal trail, and come upon Takato's special display. He'd see Takato in his lacy lingerie surrounded by a sea of rose petals and illuminated by a halo of flickering candles. He'd... He'd see everything... It was... It was all for him...

Nope. There was no way Takato could go through with this.

In an explosion of pent up anxiety, Takato leapt from the mattress and immediately began searching for some place he could run to, the thought of 'do it for Chunta' all but forgotten. But the apartment only had the one exit (besides the fire escape, and there was no way he would even think about going that way) and Junta was directly in his escape route. If he couldn't run, he would have to hide. Panicking, Takato clumsily sprinted towards the bedroom closet, slamming the sliding door shut behind him and sealing himself in the eerie darkness.

The apartment door opened and Junta entered, belting out a cheery greeting as he closed the door and placed his things beside him. After a few quiet moments where he failed to receive any sort of response, Junta tried calling out again, this time asking for Takato by name with a large amount of confusion present in his voice. Met with silence once more, Takato could hear as the man took a few hesitant steps forward, obviously curious as to where his beloved would've gone to.

Takato heard Junta chirp a quizzical sound followed by the sound of a paper unfolding. He had discovered the cutesy pink envelope Takato had strategically placed on the counter and was no doubt reading the letters contents. Mortified, he could feel the heat erupting on his cheeks. Even though he had been unable to write the note himself, since he probably would've suffered a heart attack from the stress of writing it, and even though he hadn't even typed the love letter himself and instead copied it from an example online, he still couldn't help but feel completely embarrassed by its message. It was some tooth-rottingly sweet poem with all sorts of sugary language and mushy garbage that Takato would never have been able to say with his own mouth. And now Junta was associating it with him. He curled up on the closet floor and held himself as tightly as he could; why did he ever think this was a good idea??

He could tell when Junta had finished reading when his voice once again pierced the quiet atmosphere of the apartment, although this time he spoke in a noticeably lower tone. He called out once again for his quivering lover, then his footsteps began to approach the bedroom in a slow, deliberate rhythm, no doubt following the trail of rose petals left to guide him. Takato cursed himself; he had pointed Junta straight towards himself! How could he ever hope to escape unseen now?

"Takato-saaan..." Junta's voice was immediately behind the bedroom door now, and Takato's entire body tensed in response. Through the tiniest opening left between the closet door and the wall, he could see as the bedroom door slowly pushed open and Junta's huge frame entered, an expression of sheer excitement lighting up his entire face. But as soon as Junta noticed Takato was nowhere to be found, his face fell. A series of mixed emotions crossed his expression, beginning with disappointment, then confusion, then surprise and concern. The room was set like a theater with the bed acting as center stage, yet the lead actor was strangely absent.

Though Takato prayed and prayed that Junta would exit the room and search the rest of the apartment, Junta instead shut the door behind him and, baffled, looked this way and that, scanning the room for its inhabitant. His voice came again, this time calling his name with a note of pure confusion, as he walked closer to the bed and carefully pulled back a blanket to see if anyone had been hiding there.

Takato was trying his hardest to silence his heaving breath and stop his forceful shaking. Maybe, if he was lucky, Junta would give up before thinking of checking the closet. He knew his chances were slim, but he had to hold on to some sort of hope that he was going to make it out of this alive.

But that hope was soon done away with entirely. As Junta continued to explore, making his way around the decorated bed, a playful smile began to pull at his lips, and he called out in a slow, throaty tone.

"Takato-san, are you hiding from me?" He chuckled darkly, his form dangerously close to the closet door. "I've told you how I feel about you teasing me, right Takato-san?"

Despite Takato's best efforts, he simply couldn't reign in the tiny, fearful whimper that eked past his lips in a last ditch plea for mercy.

Even though the sound was only barely audible to human ears, Junta whipped around in an instant as though reacting to a noise as loud as a thunderbolt, his laser focused eyes instantly zeroing in on the closet door. The fiendishly excited expression that erupted across his face was nothing short of bone chilling. Slowly, carefully, he crept up to the small hiding space, his breathing loud and exaggerated, a single bead of sweat rolling down his cheek.

Takato was hyperventilating as he watched that looming shadowy form creep closer and closer, eclipsing the light of the candles and bathing him in total darkness.

"Found you, Takato-san~"


	2. The Angel and the Stray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a particularly low point in his life, Junta meets some local stray cats. One of the strays, a bony little runt with black fur and blue eyes, stands out from the others. Junta becomes obsessed with catching and keeping the strange feline for himself, and he quickly finds that this is no ordinary cat. What began as Junta simply wanting a pet would turn into an unbelievable ordeal that would turn his entire life upside down.  
> Story Teaser.

Junta burst into his apartment in an excited hurry. Work had been excruciating; every hour seemed to drag on for an eternity. All he could focus on was making certain that he made it back in time.

Tossing his stuff haphazardly onto the living room floor, Junta immediately made his way into the kitchen. Even though he had previously only had various scraps to offer, this time he had gone all out to prepare, spending what little extra money he had on actual canned food that was no doubt healthier and more enticing. It took him just a moment to fumble with his old can opener and get the two tins open since his hands had begun to quiver in anticipation. He still wasn't sure what exactly about him was so special, but he knew that he'd do whatever it took to make him a part of his life.

Finally, he unceremoniously tossed the food onto two plates and sprinted to the sliding door that lead out onto the rickety excuse for a porch.

Sure enough, as soon as he opened the door, he heard the excited pips of several nearby voices. In only a matter of seconds, the easily identifiable four gracefully sprung onto the porch from the floor below. Seeing Junta with a large portion of food this time, their shimmering eyes widened expectantly and they began to chirp out a series of tiny, pleading vocalizations.

Junta laughed as the four slim figures paced around his ankles, a few of them excitedly rubbing up on his legs. But as cute and affectionate as these little stray cats were, they weren't the things he was after. He daintily leaned down and placed the first plate of wet food in the usual spot, and the quartet of hungry cats immediately began to wolf it down.

While they ate, Junta stood frozen in place with the second plate of food, waiting and watching and hoping he hadn't been too late. He could feel his heart racing as each agonizing second went by with no signs of its arrival.

Finally, a good forty seconds after the others had appeared, a fifth figure leapt clumsily onto the porch railing and strained to hoist himself up, nearly losing his balance and falling flat on its face. After a great deal of effort, the little animal managed to seat itself on the ledge, breathing in exaggerated pants as it attempted to catch is breath from the enormous effort it had exhausted in getting up here.

It was him; the one Junta had been waiting for.

The fifth cat was just as Junta remembered; the littlest runt of the neighborhood stray cats that boasted a coat of long black fur and eyes that shined in a beautiful icy blue. And, just as Junta had thought before, this cat seemed far frailer than the others, having barely made it up here even with the promise of a free meal.

The black cat, still wearily wheezing, caught sight of the plate of food still clutched in Junta's hands, and it immediately perked up with newfound energy. It garbled out a broken excuse for a meow and watched with piercing eyes as it waited for its meal to be delivered.

But Junta was planning on more than just feeding it.

Quickly setting aside the plate on an aging patio table beside him, Junta pounced on the little runt, managing to nab the little creature with a tight grip around its chest and beneath its armpits.

Startled, the black cat had tried to back away, it had even tried to make a sound, but it had all happened so fast that the stray hadn't been able to react in time. It had thought it had come here to get a free, easy meal. Now it was finding itself being plucked from the railing by this intimidatingly large man, whose golden eyes gleamed with some sort of wicked determination.

Despite the cats howling and very decidedly not cat-like sounds of protest and even with it flailing its claws desperately, managing to catch Junta a number of times across his arms and hands, the man wasn't about to let go. Satisfied with his grip, he shifted the bony runt into one hand, using the other to grab the plate of food as he took both it and his screaming hostage back into the apartment.

The curious little cat was captured. Now Junta would find out just what exactly it was about this particular animal that seemed to resonate with his very soul.

As soon as he was certain that the door was firmly shut and a quick glance revealed all the other doors in the apartment were in the same sealed state, Junta quickly released his grip on the thrashing animal, wincing in pain at the surprising amount of damage it had managed to deal his wrist and forearm in the few seconds it had spent in his grasp. He was a tad surprised and felt a twinge of guilt when the bony stray landed heavily on its back, having failed to right itself in the air and gracefully land on its feet as Junta had assumed it would. Terrified and enraged, the cat grumbled out a low note of pain as it stiffly began to roll onto its stomach and heft its slender form slowly back onto its feet.

Once it had finally managed to find its footing again, the stray cat whipped around to face its sudden captor and furiously assumed a menacing stance, with its head low to the ground, its ears folded backwards, and its tail and truly all of its ruffled hair standing tall. Its gaze landing on Junta's glittering smile, it spat a vicious hiss, swiping a paw aimlessly through the air while flaring its claws as a threat.

Despite the stinging flesh on his arm, Junta couldn't resist the urge to respond to the irritated animal with euphoric laughter, still so elated that the little critter was actually inside his home. "Don't be afraid, my little Gatito!" He smiled. "This is your new home now, and I promise to treat you with the best of care!"

As if truly understanding the mans words, an expression of shock and terror briefly crossed the little cats face, becoming instantly replaced by one of a seething determination. Grunting out one final hate filled growl, the cat took off in the opposite direction, clumsily sprinting away from Junta at top speed.

As it crossed the midline of the living room, it turned its blue eyed gaze upward in search of an escape. When he saw that the front door was shut tight, the cat turned a tight ninety degree angle and ran along the far wall, looking for just one door that had been left open. Junta, still pleasantly amused, stepped towards his faded couch and sat down. He had made certain that the only rooms accessible to his new roommate were the living room and kitchen. All the other doors in the apartment, the cat was discovering to its horror, were impassable barricades.

Continuing along the perimeter of the room, the stray arrived at the sliding glass door he had been brought in through. He could see the porch in the dwindling evening light and the alleyway beyond. Fuming and now also panicking, the frail little animal repeatedly leapt towards the doors handle. Even if he had been capable of reaching that high, which Junta had always assumed a cat could do easily, there was no way he had the mass needed to push the heavy door open. Still, he was desperate. He raked his claws down the reflective surface after every jump, trying everything he could to somehow get free.

Finally, after trying for longer than he really should have, the little black cat gave up. It flopped to the floor looking pathetic and defeated, its chest heaving from overexertion. Junta grew concerned for the poor creature. Judging by its size, the cat was malnourished to begin with. It also seemed to be far less agile than Junta knew cats to be, while its face was somehow far more expressive. It was a strange cat for certain, but that only made it that much more important to Junta.

"Aww, poor little Gatito." Junta gently cooed with a loving concern present in his voice. He lifted the plate in an offering gesture. "You must be so tired. Here, I still have the food I brought for you. Come here and eat dinner."

Junta swore he could see the cat breathe a long, frustrated sigh as it slowly turned its head to half heartedly glare in the glittering mans direction. Discovering his scowl did nothing to lessen the mans radiant, joyous aura, the animal finally decided to submit. With an exaggerated roll of its eyes, the cat stood up once again and slowly plodded towards the couch, staring at the floor rather than make eye contact with the irritating prison warden.

Once the stray arrived near his feet, Junta gently leaned over and placed the plate of food before it. "Here you go, little one!" He chirped brightly. "We gotta make sure you get big and strong!"

When the cat finally raised its head, it immediately stopped dead in its tracks. The hint of excitement that had appeared at the thought of food vanished. Instead, the animals face contorted into a disgusted grimace, looking at the wet cat food as if it were some form of rotting, inedible pile of decay. It lifted a paw to its chest and leaned backwards, eking out a noise of refusal.

Junta was dumbfounded. "You don't want it?" He asked, sliding off the cushion to sit on the floor beside the offending meal. "But it's Choice Salmon Select Premium Cat Food! It was the highest quality wet food in the whole store! Try it! It's good for you!"

Junta pushed the plate slightly closer to the retreating stray, wondering if the poor thing had never seen real cat food before and just didn't know it was something to eat. But it only retreated further, twisting away and producing a retching sound. Junta was at a complete loss; what kind of cat didn't want chopped salmon cat food? How was he supposed to take care of an animal that refused to eat?

Realizing it was a lost cause, Junta pushed the plate aside. The cat, noticing the vile sludge had moved out of smelling distance, returned to a normal stance, regarding the man with an indignant sneer.

"Okay then, Gatito." Junta sighed, folding his arms across his chest and contemplating his options. "What DO you want to eat?"

Surprisingly, the little cat really perked up at the question, its eyes shining with intrigue. Quirking an eyebrow, he turned and began trotting toward the kitchen, emitting a purring mew that bounced in pitch with every step.

While it certainly wasn't the reaction Junta had been expecting, that didn't stop him from jumping up and following after the stray, curious as to what exactly it was planning on doing.

Moving quickly and deliberately, the cat came upon the aging fridge and placed its black fur paws as high up the door as it could reach, turning his head to make eye contact with Junta and whining a long meow. Not about to try and riddle out how in the world this cat knew what a fridge was, let alone the fact that it had obviously understood the question as to what it wanted to eat, Junta simply obliged and opened the door. The cool air wafted over the frail cats bony form, prompting it to briefly shiver, but it braced itself and eagerly scanned the inner contents with glee.

Once it apparently found something appealing, it stretched out a little paw and flexed it repeatedly in a single direction, peeping short mews, trying its very hardest to signal what it wanted. It took a bit of trial and error to riddle out just what the small animal was indicating, since everything was so far away that the gesture was vague. Junta would touch an object with an inquisitive "this?" only for the cat to pause, grumble a low sort of purr, and then begin pointing again with more vigor.

Eventually, Junta tried an object and was finally met with a different, apparently positive response. The cat stopped gesturing and returned all its feet to the floor, then began to tiptoe in excited circles all around Junta's feet while proudly meowing as loud as its little body could manage.

Junta pulled the food in question out of the cold storage and took a look at what it was. Of course the little cat chose the most expensive item in the fridge, much to Junta's dismay. The raw tuna the stray was so excited for was the only real protein Junta could afford. It was his one tiny splurge during his bare bones grocery shopping, and he had been planning on searing it to perfection so at least one of his dinners this week would be something he actually enjoyed. This was the one thing he really didn't want to give up. Especially when the reason his groceries were so limited this week was because of how much he had spent on the cat food that the little thing didn't even want.

But when he looked back down to the floor in mild disappointment, preparing to tell the little creature that the tuna wasn't for him, he was met once more with those bright blue eyes, shining with a pure hearted excitement that he hadn't ever seen from the bony runt. Not even the expression it had made when Junta had first offered the local strays some food had been this truly delighted. How could he say no to that adorably expectant wide eyed fluff-ball?

Exhaling a long sigh of resignation that still managed a note of fondness, Junta gently smiled and, with his one free hand, grabbed another clean plate so as to serve the raw fish. "Alright, since it's your first day here." He chuckled. "But just this once! I can't afford to feed you fresh tuna every single day."

Seeing that the little beast was getting its way, it began to pick up its pace, turning even tighter circles and emitting a constant stream of garbled meows. And when Junta made his way back into the living room with the plate of food, the cat followed close on his heels, never taking its eyes off of its fishy feast as if it would disappear when he wasn't looking.

Junta swapped the plate of premium cat food for the plate of what should really have been his food, and the black cat immediately leapt onto the flatware and planted its entire face into the soft meat. Junta was quick to notice that this particular stray chose to lay down while it ate, and even seemed to be using its paws to keep the food anchored down while it greedily munched away. Since he had never owned a cat himself, he really couldn't be certain if this was truly unusual behavior or not. But when he quickly and quietly slipped out onto the porch again to give the other four strays the other plate of cat food and saw the way they began devouring it without acting repulsed or disgusted, and he took note of the way they ate like he expected a cat to eat; either standing or half seated on its haunches, it really made the difference between these regular cats and the skinny black runt more apparent.

Creeping back in just as quietly as he left, Junta was glad to notice his new little friend was too wrapped up in the food to notice the man moving around behind him. Making certain the door was once more firmly shut and even locked tight, and with one last glance to make sure everything was in place, including the brand new litter box he had assembled and set up in the corner, Junta decided this was his best opportunity to jump in the shower and take care of his regular nightly routine. Even though he was positive the place had been 'cat-proofed', he still planned on getting things done as quickly as he could. He wanted to make sure he only left the cat unsupervised for the shortest time possible.

\----

Once Junta was all set for the night and ready to relax, he returned to the living room to check on his furry roommate. By this point, the plate he used to feed the cat was completely clean, and it had apparently wandered off. Junta only had to briefly search to locate where it went to though; finding it seated in front of the sliding glass door and longingly meowing towards the outside and its freedom. Mildly disheartened, Junta quickly reassured himself that the little cat had much more of a chance in here than it had out there. That's why he had chosen to take it in in the first place. Making certain he walked slowly and softly, Junta approached the somber looking animal and knelt down closer to its small form.

"What's wrong, little Gatito?" Junta asked sweetly, noticing how the cat whipped around in surprise as if he hadn't heard the man coming. "Don't you like it here?"

Attempting an assertive expression, the cat forcefully placed both front paws against the smooth glass, proclaiming a single, purposeful meow.

But rather than open the door, Junta instead picked up the discarded plate and rose back to his feet, returning the plate to the kitchen sink to quickly wash it for another use. "I know it's different here, but I promise you'll like it." He explained, dropping the plate onto the drying rack and grabbing a small bowl from the cupboard above it. "It's safer here, you'll get good food twice every day, and you wont have to worry about finding a place out of the rain or finding warmth in the winter."

Junta filled the bowl with cold tap water and returned to the cat, whom was still shooting him a stern glare. He placed the bowl beside the stray and immediately walked away again, busying himself with closing any open blinds and making sure the front door and windows were shut and locked. Sure enough, the cat only hesitated for a short moment before it began greedily gulping down the water. Junta was positive this cat never had a home before; it acted as though even water was a rare commodity and it had to take advantage of it whenever it found it was available.

Finally ready to settle down in his bed, Junta approached the cat one last time. Seeing the man coming his way, the cat turned away from the water dish and once more put its paws on the door in one last attempt to communicate its wishes. When Junta leaned down and gently scooped him into one hand, it actually got excited. It made no attempts to escape his grasp, thinking that he had made his point and was finally being taken back outside to where he belonged.

Unfortunately, that wasn't Junta's plan. Once the stray was safely in his arms, Junta turned and carried the cat towards his bedroom at the back of the apartment, with the little thing immediately starting to fuss and trying its hardest to pull itself towards the retreating glass door.

"No, little one. It's time for bed." He smiled, so excited to spend his first night with his new pet.

As soon as he entered the room, Junta closed the door behind him and placed the little cat on top of the queen sized mattress. Although he initially looked like he was about to start protesting his forceful relocating, the cat quickly took on a somewhat surprised and far more relaxed posture, realizing just how warm and soft this surface was. As Junta double checked the windows in this room, the little thing began softly padding about, feeling the give of the mattress beneath its fluffy paws.

Satisfied that the apartment was set for the night, Junta switched off the main light and dimmed the bedside lamp before finally climbing into one side of the bed and snuggling beneath the covers. Once comfortable, he tried patting the pillow on the unused half of the bed, making little kisses and clicks in an attempt to lure the cat over so they could sleep together. The cat clearly knew what Junta wanted from him, but he ignored the offer, huffing out a displeased grunt and making his way to the part of the bed furthest from his kidnapper before deliberately laying down.

Junta giggled at the little stray's defiance. He was certain he'd win the animal over in time. But tonight was its first night as a house cat, so Junta knew better than to push it too far. He stopped patting the pillow and instead let his arm fall limply in front of him, sleepily watching his new best friend curl into a cute little ball of black fuzz and transition to a slower, calmer breathing pattern. Even as his eyelids began to flutter, he couldn't help beaming at the tiny stray. He knew he most likely fell asleep with a smile still pulling at his lips.

Only an hour or two later, as the night wore on and the apartment began to fall victim to the chill in the air, the cat harshly shivered. It had now officially become too cold for it to sleep alone in the bed corner any longer. It lifted its groggy gaze and slowly stumbled its way towards the head of the bed, hoping to make its way beneath the thick covers. As it passed close by Junta's still outstretched arm, it suddenly saw the slumbering man's eyes struggle open for a moment or two, and he breathed a loving sigh as he gently combed his fingertips along the few black hairs that just barely touched his skin.

"C'mere, Gatito..." He mumbled, still half asleep, patting at the pillow one last time.

The stray froze in place, contemplating what to do. This man was the same one who had kidnapped him and locked him inside with no hope of escape. Yet, this was also the man who had fed him his first full meal in days, had given him fresh drinking water with no dirt or algae polluting it, and had offered his own bed for him to sleep on. As much as he irritated the stubborn animal, he couldn't help but feel somewhat grateful for the things he had given him. But he definitely didn't want the man to go thinking that he actually 'liked' him at all. Still, there was so much warmth radiating from even just his arm...

The cat eventually decided that while he wouldn't start accepting the man as his companion, he would offer him a small amount of thankfulness for providing for his needs, and also take advantage of his soothing body heat. Satisfied with his reasoning, the cat curled up against Junta's arm and the aura of warmth radiating from it.

Junta looked through a single cracked eye at the cozy kitten and sleepily chuckled, twisting his hand to gently pat the little things fluffy hip. "I love you, my precious little gatito." He drowsily whispered, immediately falling back into a deep slumber.

In response, the cat unconsciously breathed a loving purr.

Junta wasn't sure exactly what time it had happened, but in the dead of night, he suddenly heard the sound of someone snoring.

Confused, he tiredly opened his eyes.

Laying in the bed just in front of him was a strange man he had never seen before, lost in a deep sleep while snuggled in Junta's bed and with Junta's arm pressed against his shoulder. He appeared to be somewhat young with a soft, elegant face, long eyelashes, and jet black hair that almost made it to the very tops of his shoulders. Not only was Junta sure he had never met a man like this before in his life, he was also fairly certain that this man laying in his bed was completely naked. Somehow, this stranger had silently entered his locked apartment, stripped naked, and climbed into his bed without waking Junta. But why? Who was he? What was he doing here?

Junta sat bolt upright and pulled the covers off of a good portion of the sleeping stranger, startling him with the sudden rush of cold air. The black haired man opened his eyes and lifted his head, looking confused, annoyed, and extremely sleepy.

"Um!?" Junta shouted, having trouble organizing his thoughts with the whirlwind of questions storming through his mind. "What is this?? How'd you get here?? Who 'are' you!?"

Squeezing his eyes shut tight in response to the battery of questions on his half conscious brain and making a pathetic attempt to reach and readjust the covers over his quickly cooling torso, the unknown man strained to respond.

"What are you talking about..?" He growled, giving up on the blanket and simply clutching himself tighter for warmth.

Suddenly, the black haired mans eyes snapped open as if he had just come to a sobering realization. His icy blue eyes settled onto Junta without any sort of reaction, but when they moved over his own bare form, he screeched in terrified confusion and threw himself off the bed. As soon as he was on his feet, however, he looked down at himself and shrieked again, this time seeming to realize his complete nudity as he threw his hands down to cover himself.

Frozen in place by the suddenness and the downright ridiculousness of the situation, Junta could only watch as the man turned and ducked down just enough so that the mattress covered him from the waist down, his face blooming in a fiery red and sweating bullets.

"I was!! I mean, I wasn't..! I thought that I... I couldn't-" The man made several failed attempts to speak, but his mind was moving faster than his mouth could keep up with. His frustration and embarrassment reaching its peak, he grit his teeth and growled, snatching away the sheet from beneath the duvet and off of the bed. Faster than Junta could follow, the black haired man fashioned the sheet into a crude excuse for a garment, then took off, throwing open the bedroom door and awkwardly tripping his way into the rest of the apartment.

It was only after Junta heard the distinctive sounds of his front door being unlocked, open, and shut again that he could finally move once more, beginning with a series of baffled blinks. His brain felt like it was about to short circuit with the amount of questions that dominated his thoughts. Slowly, he turned to look toward where the man had been laying. Just as he suspected, his little cat friend had disappeared in the madness. Junta had a good idea where he had gone to; the cats beautifully unique crystal eyes had been the same ones the strange man had stared him down with.

While he had no idea how something like this could happen, or where the man went or what he should do now or what exactly was going on, Junta did know one thing for certain;

He probably wasn't getting that sheet back anytime soon.


	3. THAT Time of Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takato arrives at Junta's apartment after work only to find him acting strange and distant. His reason for the behavior forces Takato to realize not all his assumptions about Junta are correct.

Takato knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the apartment. 

He wasn't sure how, but Junta could always tell when Takato was approaching his apartment, be it by his own 6th sense or some form of hidden tracking device. This meant that, nine times out of ten, Takato would unlock the apartment door and open it to find Junta already in the entryway, ready to scream a greeting and tackle him into an awkward embrace. When he wasn't hiding just behind the door, he would be ready with something else in a different room of the apartment; sometimes he was preparing dinner in the kitchen, other times he was setting up what he called 'fun surprises' in the bedroom. But no matter where he was or what he was doing, he always made certain to welcome Takato in his standard, joyously energetic tone. 

Except today. Takato had made it inside and closed the door behind him without hearing so much as a peep. 

He knew Junta was home. It was hard to miss his keys still sitting on the entryway table. Not to mention he would never leave his place without telling Takato first, especially if he was already planning on coming over.

Confused and perhaps a tad insulted that he hadn't received his standard greeting, Takato began to remove his coat and set his stuff aside to go search for the younger man. He placed the colorful bag of candy he had been given just next to Junta's keys. The director had handed out the goody bags as a fun little treat at the end of the work day, since Halloween was just around the corner. Takato thought it was a tad childish, but figured he'd share the sweets with Junta. 

Takato began moving towards the center of the apartment, loudly calling out for his missing lover. But Junta still didn't respond. Undeterred, he began checking every room, trying to riddle out where the normally omnipresent man had been hiding. 

Just as he began to call his name again, Takato opened the door to the bathroom and nearly tripped over the huge figure seated just inside. It was Junta, sitting in front of the bathroom shelf with his back toward the door, absentmindedly poking at the soaps and shampoos displayed there while quietly mumbling something to himself. 

"Chunta?" Takato questioned. 

Junta spun around in surprise, apparently only just becoming aware of Takato's presence despite his shouting. 

"Ah! Welcome home, Takato-san!" He stammered nervously, quickly turning back towards the shelves and attempting to look preoccupied with reorganizing the colorful bottles. 

But Takato wasn't easy to fool. He had a keen eye for what was real and what was only acting. It was painfully obvious that Junta wasn't here arranging the shampoos. 

"What are you doing..?" He decided to give Junta a chance to explain himself. 

"Oh, just... Alphabetizing our things..." He muttered, clearly not ready to explain his true intentions. "I wanted to make it... I guess easier to find things."

Takato folded his arms over his chest. "But I know where things are as it is. If you move stuff now, I'll have to get used to it all over again." The older actor argued, leaning his hip against the door frame. "Besides, the bottles are pretty clearly labeled. It seems pointless."

"Ah. I guess you're right, Takato-san." Junta sighed with resignation. "I'll just... put things back, then... I'll be done soon and we can order something for dinner, okay?"

"Okay, now tell me what you're actually doing in here." Takato pressed.

Junta immediately whipped around, shouting out an indignant "Nothing!" before apparently realizing how loud and suspicious he sounded and turning his reddened face away once more, hoping to hide his expression from Takato's scrutinizing glare. "Nothing. Really." He tried once more, this time far quieter. "I just was really caught up with... with these soaps... and..."

Takato waited for more, but Junta's voice trailed into silence. "And...?"

With a shuddering sigh, Junta brought his knees to his chest, holding them tightly with one bulky arm while the other still gently fussed with the shelf contents. "And... Well, you know... This time of year... allergies. And flu season... or something..."

The noticeable change to a far more depressed tone caught Takato off guard. He hadn't ever really seen Junta so gloomy before. 

Suddenly overcome by a soul-consuming feeling of guilt for asking questions that clearly didn't want to be answered, Takato silently backed away from the downcast man, unable to come up with something to say in response and deciding to simply flee instead. Junta hardly seemed to mind, though. He didn't even stir as the older man quietly escaped to the living room, seemingly too caught up in his own thoughts for the absence to register. 

Takato breathed a hushed groan as he flopped down onto the couch, laying across its entire length. He felt awful for making Junta so uncomfortable, but he hated the idea of simply apologizing. His pride wouldn't easily allow him to admit a mistake by saying 'sorry' for it, and expressing those somewhat deeper, mushier feelings just made Takato unreasonably embarrassed. He needed to find some other way to rid himself of the gnawing guilt he had accidentally burdened himself with.

Shifting his head and scowling at the sudden uncomfortable feeling, Takato roughly jammed a hand beneath the pillow supporting his head and pulled out whatever it was that was making the cushion feel so lumpy and terrible. As he brought it towards his face to discern its identity, his scowl immediately softened into a nostalgic smile. 

Takato had actually stumbled upon this dvd once before. It was a copy of The Diary Exchange, a horror movie he had starred in when he was still only a teenager. It was your pretty standard cheesy ghost story, this one about the angry spirit of a high school student who kept an exchange diary going with her group of paranormal enthusiast friends but had taken her own life after an emotional break up and now used the diary as her connection to the living to try and force her friends into the afterlife to join her. In the end, only Takato's character and the female main character survived after tracking down the boyfriend who had since moved away and having him write an apology into the diary to put her spirit at ease. All the other characters succumbed to the evil powers, each one being manipulated into committing suicide in different gruesome ways. It hadn't been the best movie, but it was really the only true horror film Takato had done, and the cast and crew had had a lot of fun with it. Overall, it had been a very memorable and enjoyable experience. 

An idea began to form in Takato's mind. He remembered that Junta had told him that this film had been the only one he had acted in that he hadn't actually watched yet. Judging by the fact that it hadn't moved since then, Takato was willing to bet that was still true. It was the perfect spooky movie to watch in celebration of the Halloween season. Not to mention Junta simply adored whenever Takato showed interest in the two doing anything together, no matter how mundane. He excitedly hopped down from the couch and strode back toward the bathroom with the dvd in his hand, hoping his 'movie date' idea would pull Junta out of his funk and therefore relieve him of the guilt from upsetting the sulky angel. 

When Takato arrived at the bathroom again, he was somewhat disheartened to find Junta still hadn't moved from his spot. Determined to go through with his plan, Takato purposefully made his last few footsteps a tad louder than the rest, making certain Junta knew he had returned. 

"Hey, Chunta. Halloween is coming up pretty soon, yeah?" Takato smiled, trying not to make his voice sound any desperate or overly excited as he felt a blush begin to form on his cheeks. "How about we watch The Diary Exchange together that night? We can turn down all the lights and eat the candy I got from work. You still haven't seen it yet, right?"

Without turning around, Junta lifted himself upright for a moment or two, then slowly curled himself forward, resting his head in his knees as his shoulders began to quake sporadically. 

Takato was instantly offended. 

"Are you... You're laughing at me..!?" He hissed, feeling thoroughly insulted and with his cheeks erupting in a fiery red embarrassment. "I..! I didn't even *really* want to watch it anyway!! I was only trying to be nice!! I just wanted you to stop your stupid moping, that's all!!"

At first, Junta didn't react to Takato's flustered backpedaling, remaining quiet and turned the other way even as the red faced actor glared daggers into his back. It was only after a moment or two of silent hesitation that Junta finally turned himself around, gently lifting his gaze to look Takato in the eyes.

Takato gasped, his angry posture melting away. 

Junta hadn't been laughing. He was crying. 

There was no mistaking it. His eyes were tired and bloodshot, his entire face dusted pink and even a tad puffy, and his expression was filled with utter misery. 

Filling with shock and concern, Takato allowed the dvd to slip from his fingers, landing beside him in a noisy clatter as he dropped to his knees and placed his petite hand on Junta's shoulder.

"Chunta!?" He yelped, watching worriedly as the larger man once again hid his face in his knees and shuddered. "Are you alright!? Chunta, what's wrong!?"

Sniffling, Junta only barely rolled his face so that his voice wouldn't be muffled by his own legs, but so his expression was still mostly hidden in shadow. "I'm sorry, Takato-san..." He whispered. 

Takato immediately scoffed. "Why are you apologizing to* me *? Tell me what happened!"

"I just..." Junta paused with a deep, calming breath. "I don't like Halloween. At all. Ever since I was little I've been scared of ghosts and monsters and the like. I usually find some sort of excuse to take work off for the last week of October so I can just stay in my home and forget all about it. But I knew you'd be disappointed if I took work off for something so childish. And I also didn't want to spoil your fun since you sounded so excited for Halloween..."

"Chunta..." Takato murmured sadly.

"I was doing okay by simply trying my hardest to avoid all the scary movies and ghost stories..." Junta continued, lifting his face to wipe his eyes with his shirt. "But even trying to browse the internet is horrible around this time. I was just trying to look up new recipes when I ran into one of those stupid jump-scare posts, and I... I just got overwhelmed..."

Takato was floored. This was Junta, after all. The man stood 6 foot 2 with impressively defined muscles (which Takato had always been envious of) and had seemingly enough strength to wrestle a wild bear. He wasn't ever intimidated by other people and could easily bring people into submission without even laying a finger on them, especially if they got between him and Takato. The older actor had been pretty convinced that nothing scared Junta Azumaya.

But here he was, curled into a miserable little ball of fear, looking far more like a child than the 160 pound he-man that he really was. And this only lead Takato to a more concerning question.

"Chunta..." He began cautiously. "Did a friend or someone in your family tease you with all that scary stuff when you were little..?"

Junta didn't say a word and simply hid his face once more, emitting a tragic whimpering. 

Clearly now wasn't the time to prod any further, so Takato left it at that. But still, to think that Junta was so easily spooked by something as silly as the playful monsters and light hearted trickery of Halloween. It was so mind-blowing, so heart breaking, so...

So...* Gratifying *...

Of course Takato felt sorry for Junta for having something that troubled him so much that it could reduce him to a cowering mess, but he also couldn't help but find it so thrilling. Not only was it adorable beyond description, but it was also a delicious ego booster to finally find something Takato could do that Junta couldn't. Petty, perhaps. But something that charmed the older man none the less. He was excited at the idea of becoming the protector rather than the protected, and a whole knew wave of ideas washed over him in an instant. 

"Not to worry, Chunta!" He smirked, pulling the other man by his shoulder and startling him into raising his gaze again. "You're lucky enough to have Takato Saijou as your protection! I was fighting all sorts of spooky ogres and demons when I was only a child, even as far back as my second ever feature film! Not to mention it was 'my' character that finally defeats the evil ghost in this Diary Exchange movie! There's no paranormal beast that's ever managed to take down* this *veteran actor! There's no one better to keep you safe!"

Feeling significantly lighter from seeing Takato so energized, Junta couldn't help but smile. He was still nervous about the upcoming holiday and all the frights and tricks it brought with it, but Takato's good mood was always infectious, especially for Junta. And even though he was well aware that the monsters he had listed were only ones he had bested in films and fiction, the fact that the man was trying to put him more at ease was an enormous comfort. Besides, he figured the things that scared him were just as fictional, so what better to protect him than the hero that defeats them as a career? 

Proudly noting Junta's positive change in expression, Takato roughly patted him on his shoulder. "There. See? Nothing to worry about!" He grinned, feeling entirely pleased with himself as he rose to his feet and offered a hand towards Junta to pull him up as well. Junta even managed a quiet chuckle as he accepted the assistance, which only further swelled both Takato's ego and his affection towards his angelic lover. 

"Thank you, Takato-san." He smiled brightly, keeping Takato's hand within his grip even after he was back on his feet. 

Takato turned and puffed out an exaggerated laugh, trying to hide the fact that his face had once again erupted with color. Noticing Junta wasn't letting go, he secured his own grip and gently tugged his arm forward, signaling him to follow along beside him as he walked back toward the living room. 

"Now, are you certain you don't want to watch The Diary Exchange with me?" He asked once more while still making it sound like Junta was free to decline. "I could tell you all about the other actors and what other movies they've been in. Kinda like a reminder that they didn't really die. And I can tell you all the stories of the outtakes where the ghost kept blowing her own lines!"

Junta laughed, his glimmering aura returning to him at full strength. "Sure!" He smiled. 

He knew he had nothing to fear with Takato there to protect him.


	4. The Unseen Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After every intense session of intimacy, Takato always seems to wake up feeling clean and refreshed. 
> 
> Junta dutifully performs his aftercare routine; happy to spoil his beloved with no thanks necessary.

Junta heaved an exaggerated sigh as his breathing finally returned to a normal 'resting' rate. He wasn't sure how long he had spent laying there in a daze with his unfocused eyes pointed towards the ceiling. For that brief moment the world had felt so perfect, and all of life's hardships and obligations had become so distant. However, he knew he couldn't indulge in the blissful euphoria forever. He had to return to reality eventually, especially since he still had some important tasks to complete before he could fall asleep for the night. He'd have to wait until the next time he returned to that perfect world to enjoy that same serene peace again. 

With a straining grunt, Junta hefted himself up into a seated position, casting a glance at the man laying beside him. 

It was clear Takato had been slumbering for a little while now. Sprawled out on his back, his skin still glistening with the remnants of moisture, wearing an unconscious yet visibly exhausted expression and breathing in snuffly snores. His entire form was bare, with slender limbs stretched wide atop the comforter so that not even the blankets offered any cover. 

Junta smiled. He was so cute, so beautiful; Takato was perfect. 

As much as he hated the idea of disturbing such a divine Adonis, his first task was to get him off that unclean blanket. 

Junta carefully rose to his feet, fighting through the weakness that came with his first few steps. He took just a second to rearrange himself and fix his pants so that the only clothing he was still wearing didn't slip off his hips while he walked. Turning to face the bed, he took hold of the left side of the thick blanket and bunched it up just beside Takato, revealing a portion of the clean sheet beneath it. With careful dexterity, he slipped his hands beneath Takato and moved him off the comforter and onto the spotless sheet, making sure there was a pillow beneath his head to avoid him waking up with neck strain. Not surprisingly, the shift hadn't been enough to wake Takato given how completely drained the night had left him. He merely muttered something incoherent before rolling his head to the side to resume his sleepy snores. 

With the comforter freed, Junta bundled the heavy blanket into a ball, then picked up the mass and quietly exited the room. A few hushed sounds arose from various rooms in the apartment as Junta moved about, hard at work to complete his tasks quickly without making too much noise. 

When he finally returned to the bedroom, Junta was carrying the bed's spare comforter fresh from the dryer nestled beneath his arm. In his hands were two clean wash cloths; the one in the right sopping wet, while the one in the left was bone dry. The last object on his person was a cold bottle of the flavored water "Pocari Sweat" that he had procured from the fridge, now jammed inside his pants pocket, making his hip appear comically bulbous. 

Junta placed the clean blanket aside and daintily clambered onto the foot of the partially-stripped bed. Before he could begin, he took just a moment to pause and offer his slumbering sweetheart a loving smile filled to the brim with Junta's rawest affections. Even though he had only been out of his sight for a minute or two, Junta still had to take the time to remind himself that he wasn't in some sort of wonderful dream; but that there really *was* this gorgeous vision asleep in his bed whom Junta had shared a vow of devotion to spend their entire lives together. 

Momentarily setting down the two washcloths, Junta reached out and put a wide hand onto Takato's knee. 

"Takato-san..?" He whispered sweetly, gently rocking the older man's leg back and forth. "Takato-san. Can you pull your legs back for me?"

Aware enough to realize someone was talking to him but still too sleepy to process what was being asked, Takato shifted slightly. His soft face scrunched into a weak grimace as a quizzical yet somewhat annoyed sound rose from the back of his throat. 

Junta chuckled. Sleepy Takato was always so adorable. Which is exactly why he had amassed more than a hundred cell phone photos of the actor passed out on different surfaces and in a variety of positions. It was something so raw; so human. Something that captured an expression of peace and innocence. And the almost childlike way he always attempted (rather pathetically) to grouchily resist any bids to rouse him from that blissful state only made him even more precious. 

With his verbal warning ultimately ignored, Junta moved closer towards Takato so as to take care of matters himself. He easily lifted both of Takato's slender legs by his feet, sliding them closer to his hips and bringing his knees up. Moving slowly and purposefully, Junta grabbed one knobby knee and hoisted it up and over his shoulder, granting him a full uninterrupted view of everything that the normal awake Takato always found far too embarrassing to show to anyone. But despite his constant efforts to hide, Junta was still intimately familiar with the entirety of his lovers body. He could draw a map of every scar, every blemish, every dimple or mark or what have you. 

Which is why neither coyness nor modesty stilled Junta's hands as he took hold of the wet rag and, with the feathery-est of light touches, began to wipe down everything that had been dirtied during their act of passion. He began with a few careful blots to Takato's slim stomach, then gradually shifted his focus lower and lower. 

Takato erupted into a full body quiver at the sudden feel of the cooling wet cloth on his red tinted, over sensitive skin. Still stubbornly refusing to awaken from his much needed sleep, he could only muster the most pathetic of protests. His face and hands instantly tightened on themselves as a pitiful whimpering began to resonate from his person. When these acts failed to stop the gentle swabbing, he instead began to reach his hand downward both to push away the offender and in a sorry attempt to cover his nudity, still whimpering all the while.

Junta only laughed as Takato repeatedly nudged at his bulky fingers with his own slender ones and moved to occupy the space whenever Junta's hand dipped out of the way. With his free hand, Junta very delicately took hold of Takato's wrist and, with very little effort necessary, held it over his stomach so that his other hand could continue it's work. 

"Shh. It's okay, Takato-san." Junta cooed as Takato's whimpering escalated slightly due to his captive wrist. "It's just me, alright? You don't need to be embarrassed towards me. I'll be done in just a second here..."

Realizing his efforts were in vain, Takato pulled his other arm to his chest, turning his head towards his hand and weakly clenching his fist. 

Finishing up with a few cleansing swipes down his thighs, Junta released Takato and helped ease his leg back onto the mattress. It took a bit of energy to move his own bulky figure all the way up to the head of the bed, seating himself just beside Takato. Once settled, he plopped the moist rag onto the nightstand and switched to the dry washcloth, using the soft material to wipe away the cooling sweat of heavy exertion that had uncomfortably accumulated along Takato's hairline, cheeks, and neck. 

Though the touch to his face immediately caused his entire expression to clench ever tighter, Takato was quicker to accept these soothing strokes applied to his head and neck than he had been to the touches that had focused where he was most modest. What was once whimpering became more akin to quiet peeps of acceptance as he turned his face into the loving strokes, appreciating the soothing massage as well as the removal of all the irritating perspiration. Junta smiled at Takato's subtle nuzzling. In many ways, he was very much like a cat; prideful of his appearance and making a point to come across as cool and sophisticated and entirely independent, when all he really seemed to want in life was the love, devotion, and physical affection he had been deprived of for so long. While still drying the sweat from his brow, Junta used his other hand to run his fingers through Takato's silky black hair, taming the wild locks that had been so thoroughly disarrayed in the events of the evening.

Satisfied with his work, Junta finished his cleaning with just a quick swab over Takato's stomach, thighs, and anywhere else affected by the wet washcloth, purposefully moving swiftly enough to prevent Takato from getting a chance to resist. He tossed the second rag with the first, then slowly and carefully slid his forearm beneath Takato's bony shoulders, lifting his upper body away from the pillow beneath him. 

"Takato-san?" He began, pulling the smaller man to rest against his side as he grabbed the bottled sports drink from his bulging pocket. Dancing just on the edge of consciousness, Takato whined like a distressed dog, desperate to remain asleep. "You can sleep in just a moment, Takato-san." Junta chuckled, unable to resist the urge to press a quick kiss to his lovers forehead. "But you have to drink some of this first, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Surprisingly, Takato's glazed eyes fluttered open at this. Still, Junta wasn't so sure he had actually awoken. His eyes stared endlessly into the middle space, lacking that hyper-observant spark that usually illuminated the ocean blue. Junta had actually been fooled once before, positive Takato had woken up during Junta's aftercare routine only to find that he remembered nothing the next day. 

Junta dexterously removed the cap one-handed and offered the bottle towards Takato's mouth. He couldn't help but feel the tiniest twinge of disappointment when Takato's unfocused eyes caught sight of the drink and his mouth dropped open in response. He would have to keep waiting for his chance to use 'you were too tired to drink by yourself' to push his own agenda. Junta cautiously tipped the liquid into Takato's drooping mouth, making certain he was actually swallowing in his delirious state. 

Rather than say when he had had his fill, Takato weakly fought to turn away from the incoming liquid to signal Junta to stop. Having consumed an acceptable amount, Junta conceded, drawing the container away and setting it aside. He eased the older man back down to the pillow, watching his eyes close once more as he returned to a more unconscious overall appearance. 

Junta stood up, gathering the water bottle and soiled rags and making his way out of the room again. He was only absent for a brief moment before he returned, picking up the clean comforter he had set aside previously and effortlessly unfurling it overhead and laying it across the entire mattress, Takato included. After making certain it was straight and tucked in place, Junta was finally finished for the night. He took his place beside the bed, letting out a hearty yawn and stretching his aching muscles. The activity from earlier had been just as exhausting for Junta, but taking care of his beloved was far more important to him than his own comfort. 

Deciding at the last moment that his jeans were far too stiff and uncomfortable, Junta stripped down to match Takato's nudity before finally climbing into the bed, turning out the light beside him. He rolled towards his slumbering lover, placing a bulky hand softly upon his face and stroking his cheek with his thumb. 

"Goodnight, Takato-san." He sighed with a sleepy smile. "I love you so much."

With a hushed grunt, Takato flipped onto his side, curling tightly into Junta's chest with his hands attempting to grip at the shirt Junta wasn't actually wearing. 

Giving up and simply pressing his fists softly into Junta's shoulders, Takato breathed a contented purr, nuzzling deeper into Junta's sternum. 

"Mmm... M'love you... Chun..." He mumbled so quietly it almost went unheard.

Junta certainly heard it, though. His eyes moistened as he squeezed Takato in a protective embrace, promising to never let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been asked SO MANY TIMES to write NSFW. This was me getting a tiny bit of practice in. 
> 
> As always, please take a moment to let me know what you thought of it. And be sure to let me know if you ever have any suggestions or requests.  
> And I always love to work with others, so give me a shout for that too.


	5. Once Upon a Fairy Tale (part1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The classic story of the poor housekeeper and the handsome prince, now Dakaichi-fied! 
> 
> Based loosely off of the Sakurabi Cinderella chapter of the fanbook. This is a lighthearted and somewhat humorous parody of the story of Cinderella. Many details have been altered to better fit the characters, but the main story remains intact. 
> 
> This first part is just all the exposition. We can get that all out of the way now so the rest of the story can be more entertaining.

It was a bitter autumn evening of early November when it all began. An extravagant overnight ball would be held within none other than the quaint kingdom towns own royal castle; an event open to any and all guests so long as they owned a fitting set of fancy formalwear that followed the gala's strict dress code. The events purpose was not only to entertain the wealthier townsfolk and nobles, but was also meant to help the seldom seen Prince of the royal family, who was now well past marrying age, to find a potential bride who could serve beside him as his Queen when he rose to the King's throne. The Prince's father, the late King, had only recently passed away, insisting before he died that his kingdom servants push his son to quickly marry and sire an heir before he rose to ruler. And with the Queen now ill and on her death bed, time was running out. 

Many people had decided to attend the ball in the hopes that they might catch a glimpse of this mysterious Prince, whom was destined to become their leader despite spending his childhood and adolescence out of the publics eyes. More still were attending in the hopes that they'd win the Prince's affections and be selected to become the new Queen. But most folks wanted only to join in on the nights festivities; to meet with the other local nobles or with the prestigious Actors Guild, whom were scheduled to perform a play just for the event, and to have a night of fun to break up the monotony of day to day life. 

Takato heaved a gloomy sigh as he watched out the 2nd story window, his eyes following the royal carriage that paraded down the streets announcing the event and inviting everyone to join. He wanted so badly to attend the grandiose gala. No matter where life took him, his heart was bound to the theatre. Acting was in Takato's blood. And a chance to mingle with those in the Actor's Guild and hopefully earn a standing among them or even perhaps an audition would truly be Takato's dream come true. 

Alas, it was not to be. 

Though Takato had enjoyed many years of volunteering at a small local theatre, earning him dozens of roles across dramas and tragedies and building his reputation as a gifted actor upon the stage, he was forced to give it up some years back. His goal had been to build enough of a presence to attract the Actor's Guild, and hopefully find a place with their theatre troupe, whose actors were paid handsomely instead of having to donate time. But shortly before that could happen, his Grandmother had fallen ill. Due to an error in the legal process that Takato never quite understood, her passing caused his parents to lose much of their land holdings, and his entire family went from being reasonably wealthy to barely having enough to scrape by. After much consideration, Takato chose to give up his time volunteering so he could take a full time job and help pay for his parents well being. 

Takato became a house servant. It was a well paying job that included food and a place to stay, allowing every penny he earned to be sent back to his mother and father. Unfortunately, it left him without any free time. Within a year, his dreams of returning to the stage had faded away. 

The job, it turned out, would slowly become his nightmare. Being young and inexperienced, it had taken Takato a good while to find a wealthy family willing to hire him into their household. Eventually, he found two sisters of about 30 years of age who had moved to a new town with the fortune they inherited from their father, and they were willing to hire any housekeeper that could start immediately. The job started out well. The sisters were hardly home for their first year in the new house, since they often had further affairs to sort out back in their hometown. Takato basically had to make sure the food was stocked and the house was clean and dusted at all times. For the short periods of time where the sisters were home, they seemed busy with legal affairs and kept to themselves. Takato did his job well, earned good pay, sent his money home, and spent the evenings by himself in his quarters reading stage plays and other stories until he fell asleep. 

Once the sisters had settled in for good, things quickly turned. As soon as they discovered how desperately Takato needed this job, they began taking advantage of him for their amusement. They cut his pay for any reason they could think of, made him work tirelessly on inane tasks that didn't actually help anything, took away his food privileges, forcing him to make them intricate feasts while he was only allowed meager portions of bread, water, and poor cuts of meat. Takato never realized how malicious the women were when they had been busy. Now that they were bored with nothing but free time, they entertained themselves by belittling their housekeeper, whom was slowly turning into their slave. While other wealthy households would pay good money to keep their servants in clean, fancy attire to make a good impression upon visitors, the sisters found it more entertaining to leave Takato with only a single tattered suit at a time, often covered in rips, burns, and mysterious stains that he simply couldn't remove. 

But even as his entire existence went to hell, Takato couldn't bring himself to quit. With his haggard appearance and lack of reference-able experience, he had no hope of finding another family to hire him. So he continued to work every miserable day with the sadistic sisters just so he could send what little pay he earned to his struggling parents. It was as if he was thier prisoner. 

As the royal carriage exited his line of sight, Takato puffed out one final wistful breath before gently easing the window shut. 

"If only wishes really did come true." He miserably mumbled, picking up one of his books that ended with a 'happily ever after' before frowning and casting it aside. "But that only ever actually happens in fairy tales..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you could tell from the chapter title, this story will have multiple parts.   
> Thank you for putting up with all this exposition! I promise the story gets better from here on!   
> Please let me know your thoughts so far! It helps me to give you a better story!


	6. Once Upon a Fairy Tale (part2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of the classic story of the poor housekeeper and the handsome prince, now Dakaichi-fied!
> 
> Based loosely off of the Sakurabi Cinderella chapter of the fanbook. This is a lighthearted and somewhat humorous parody of the story of Cinderella. Many details have been altered to better fit the characters, but the main story remains intact.
> 
> This chapter gets the last of the backstory out of the way. We all know that the first part of a fairy tale is always about how miserable the main character is. Now I can actually get to the fun parts where the story isn't so dang serious.   
> I hope you enjoy! Remember to catch me on the dakaichi discord!

"Where is that worthless freeloader? Takato?? Takato, get down here!!" 

The elder sisters shrill, shrieking voice pierced through the peaceful atmosphere of the household, startling Takato enough to heavily knock him from his bed and onto the unforgiving stone floor. Fearing fostering further anger from taking too long to respond, he hurriedly scrambled onto his feet and bolted out of his cramped quarters and down to the first floor entrance hall where the screech had originated. 

"Ye-... Y-Yes, Madam?" Takato wheezed, clutching his heaving chest while he tried to force himself into the proper posture. 

The older of the two sisters turned her furious gaze towards her haggard housekeeper. The black haired, brown eyed woman now in her late thirties appeared to be only part-way through getting herself dressed in something far more fancy than her normal day to day attire. She was wearing her expensive undergarment fitted with an inlaid corset, the laces of which were hanging behind her still untied. She also looked as though something had put her into one of her 'moods'. Takato would have to choose his words carefully if he didn't want his already meager pay to be docked for the week, or perhaps even the month. 

"And just where have you been hiding?" She spat venomously, marching towards Takato with an intimidating air of authority. "The fireplace desperately needs to be emptied, the floors are all absolutely filthy, and you didn't restock the tea after you used the last bag! You've really been slacking off lately, hiding in your room all hours of the day! Does your dimwitted pea-brain even remember where you put my best ballroom dress after you last cleaned it? Because it's not in the closet where it should be!"

Takato had to take a moment to process all of what had just been screamed at him. Careful not to turn his head and make his examinations obvious, he glanced first towards the stone fireplace, then to the ornate floor, and finally to the elegant clock perched above the mantle. The fireplace had hardly a dusting of soot resting within it, far less than enough to merit emptying it. And judging by the full bucket of ashes beside it, he had already cleaned it up after the last fire. The floor, too, looked well maintained. There was no visible smearing of dirt or debris across the tiles or even trapped within the small cracks in between. And Takato had just made the sisters their afternoon tea a few hours ago. He hadn't been to the market since, especially since he knew they wouldn't be demanding tea again until tomorrow. 

Which meant that, once again, Takato was being reprimanded for doing everything right. Still, he was forced to hold his tongue. If he dared to disagree with her unjust fury and stand up for himself, he would only make things worse for him and for his parents. 

And as for the dress; Takato was certain he had returned it to its proper spot last week. He remembered triple checking to make certain he hadn't confused the elder sisters gown with the younger's, since he had been so thoroughly chewed out for making that mistake the time before. 

"My apologies, Madam." Takato bowed. "I'll get started on the chores right away. But your dress... Are you certain it wasn't in there?"

As Takato quickly passed by the ill-tempered woman to make his way into one of the first floor dress-rooms walk-in closets, he heard a disgusted scoff escape her person. 

"Do you think I'm blind?" She hissed, watching Takato begin to dig through the hundreds of extravagant garments hanging in a row. 

But after only a moment or two of searching, the sharp eyed house keeper plucked a hanger from the bunch and produced the dress in question, trying his hardest to keep his expression neutral while feeling rather proud of himself. 

The sister, however, looked far less than pleased. She held her steely glare over Takato for several seconds more before quickly snatching the garment from his grip. "You pathetic imbecile! No wonder I couldn't find it!" She shouted, gesturing with the dress to the large closet. "I've told you a hundred times; this is my day-wear closet! This dress belongs in the evening-wear one! But I guess that never got through your astoundingly dense, abhorrently thick-headed skull!"

Takato shrunk down in the face of the homeowners raw fury, his typically confident nature melting away to reveal a meek pushover. "I... I'm sorry. You were right; I made an unforgivable error, and I sincerely apologize." He squeaked, meticulously arranging his thoughts so that he didn't say anything to upset her even further. "I assure you that I wont let it happen in the future-"

"That's exactly the same line you gave me the last time!!" She roared. "What reason do I have to actually believe anything that comes out of your mouth?! Every time I give you another chance, you only disappoint me again and again. I should've thrown you out onto the streets years ago! You can find a different stooge willing to house you and feed you and pay your good for nothing family while you laze around all day ignoring your responsibilities and failing to meet even the lowest expectations!! In fact, you might just want to pack your bags tonight! Because I've had just about enough of your constant-!!"

"Forget about that inconsequential ignoramus, Aki!" The younger sister exclaimed, having suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs and quickly making her way towards the first floor. She had already managed to fit herself into her own embellished, unreasonably expensive gown, which she accented with pristine white opera gloves that she was still coaxing onto her hands. "We need to get there as soon as we can. We want to make a good impression, after all!" 

Luckily for Takato, the appearance of her younger sibling seemed to somewhat pacify the older woman, as her aggressive stance relaxed and a smug smile spread across her lips. "Oh, don't worry about making an impression." She cackled, suddenly spinning around and forcefully backing up into Takato, which he realized was her blunt way of signaling him to tie her loose corset laces. "You've seen all the other women in this boorish peasant town. We'll be like a breath of fresh air to them! With us there, its not even a contest!"

As he carefully tightened and tied the troublesome corset strings, making certain he didn't pull it too taut or let a hand linger too long on the woman's back, he slowly went over the sisters conversation again in his head. From the few details they had divulged, Takato was nearly positive that the reason for their formal attire had to be that they had been planning on attending the Prince's formal ball, which he realized was opening its doors in a mere half hour. Though, deep down, he knew better than to let his hopes up, he couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat or two. On occasion, the sisters had brought him along to their fancy outings, mostly so he could continue to wait on them hand and foot even at a formal gathering. But he would happily listen to all their demands if it meant he could accompany them this evening. After all, he always found a moment where they were too busy socializing or dancing to require his services, allowing him to do as he pleased for at least a little while. If he could use that brief moment to speak with the Actor's Guild, he might have the smallest fraction of a chance of joining up with them, and he could leave this nightmare for good. Even simply making an initial impression on them would bring him one step closer to freedom. 

Finishing the corset, Takato took a deliberate step backwards and cleared his throat, doing his best not to sound too excited or desperate. "So... I suppose you must be planning on attending some form of highly distinguished gala tonight." He began. "Will you be requiring my services for this event, or...-"

"Ha! You really think we'd bring a disaster like you along?" The younger of the sisters suddenly roared before transitioning into a fit of mocking laughter. 

Takato could practically feel his blood go ice cold at the disheartening implications. 

"This is a monumental event we're talking about." The older sister chimed in, making her way towards the full length mirror to put on her overly-elegant gown. "One that eclipses your entire existence. This dance marks the last chance for that shut-in of a Prince to finally choose a bride."

"We don't want to ruin the chances of one of us being chosen by bringing a disgraceful, embarrassingly disheveled, low-life servant along." The younger added, taking her turn forcefully backing into Takato while lifting her hair to reveal her dress's zipper. "If they saw how tattered your suit was, they might get the wrong impression and think WE are as poor as YOU are!"

"It's only fun to bring you along when your humiliation is entirely at your own expense." The elder woman snickered. "Just think, Asa; if one of us becomes Queen, we can get our own fleet of actual hard-working house servants. Ones that do everything you tell them when they are told and don't hide away fantasizing about a life they can never afford."

"If you're lucky," The younger sister continued, moving to stand beside her equally over-dressed sibling now that both of their outfits were complete and ready to impress the masses. "We wont need you anymore after tonight. You'll have all the time in the world to daydream while your poor pathetic family goes hungry!"

The sadistic sisters shared a hearty howl of elated laughter and made their way toward the exit. Takato, his blood having instantly shifted from ice cold to boiling with a blinding rage, clenched his fists and bit at his lower lip almost hard enough to bleed in an attempt to hold his tongue. Despite the raw fury that bubbled within him from his savagely wounded pride, despite his serpents tongue itching to unleash a series of vicious but wholly apt comebacks, despite the rage consuming him from the years of having put up with this torturous life; Takato somehow managed to stand his ground. To fight back was to show weakness, and those malicious sisters wouldn't hesitate to take full advantage of any opening he gave them. He wouldn't let his parents down. 

Still fighting back the urge to lash out at the sisters as they stepped out the heavy front door, Takato somehow managed to hold his voice steady for long enough to offer a polite farewell, adding "I hope you have a wonderful time."

Surprisingly, the two women stopped dead in their tracks at this, turning to Takato with a lethal glare for reasons he didn't understand. They shared a half second glance between them before, while the younger held the door wide open, the older of the sisters marched back inside the house, heading directly towards the fireplace on the other wall. Takato's anger cooled to cautious confusion as she placed her hands on her hips to lift the dress enough to expose her right leg. 

In one swift swing, she forcibly kicked the metal bucket beside the fire place doors, sending it noisily clattering across the stone floor and flinging the entirety of its ashen contents all over every inch of the room and coating Takato's lower half in pitch black soot. 

"This floor had better be spotless when we get back!" She hissed with a hideous smile, leaving out the door her guffawing sister still held open. "Or else you'll be sleeping alone in the locked cellar for the week."

Finally, amidst a cold-blooded chorus of cruel, spiteful laughter, the door eased shut and the women disappeared into the night. It was only a matter of moments before their voices drifted farther and farther away, eventually becoming replaced by the sound of a horse drawn carriage setting off down the street. 

Takato, still covered with a thick coat of filthy black ash, stood motionless for a good while, his mind struggling to sort through the chaotic cyclone of competing emotions that tore through his thoughts. When he did move again, he quickly clenched his teeth, picked up the overturned bucket beside him, then hurled it with all his might at the door the sisters had exited through earlier. The object ricocheted with a resounding clang that echoed through the halls before gaining an accompaniment in the form of the bucket crashing back to the ground and across the floor. 

"I HOPE THAT PRINCE WINDS UP HATING YOU BOTH, AND TELLS YOU TO YOUR FACES THAT HE WANTS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU." Takato shrieked, accenting his savage fury with a heavy stomp in the dusty ash. "MAYBE THEN YOU'LL KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO HAVE YOUR DREAMS TORN TO PIECES AND TO LIVE IN SUCH CONSTANT STATE OF MISERY THAT... that..." Slowly, Takato's rage began to melt into a soul crushing sorrow. His shrieks lessened in volume until they were almost whimpers, and his quaking legs gave out from beneath him, causing him to crumble to his knees in utter defeat, his eyes burning with tears that streaked clean lines across his sooty face. 

"That you don't even know why you even bother to try anymore..." He cried in a heart breaking sob, curling himself into a ball of pain and misery with his face hidden in his hands. 

"I wish someone would save me from this never-ending torture..."

Suddenly, the sound of a harsh slam reverberated throughout the house, as if something quite large had forcibly smacked into the second stories outside wall. Takato exclaimed a startled yelp at the sound, instantly leaping to his feet in surprise and listening closely for some kind of hint as to the sounds origin. 

After a moments pause, a soft, nearly inaudible grumbling rose from the outdoor impact site, followed shortly by a significantly louder shuffling as though something was moving across the wall of the house. Takato inched towards the staircase, his attention fully focused on the commotion before he picked out the distinct sounds of the creaky window to his quarters being pried open and heard a sizeable body quietly climb inside and onto the bed he knew was just beneath. 

"A burglar!" Takato gasped. "Someone managed to get inside!"

Without thinking through a plan or evaluating the dangers of the situation, Takato instantly bolted up the stairs in a rush of adrenaline, ready to do whatever it took to protect the house and its contents. Though he hated those evil sisters with all of his being, he was always determined to perform every one of his duties as house keeper to the best of his ability, and that included fending off any foes who found their way inside. 

With his intense fit of nervous energy reaching a fever pitch, Takato slammed his door open to assess the full situation. 

But the intruder he had been picturing clad in dark clothes with a black mask and some form of weapon in his hand wasn't there. The only person in Takato's room was a spritely young boy sitting on the edge of the bed, gently dusting some debris off his dazzling vest and fixing his short, chestnut hair. He was wearing what was reminiscent of a school uniform, but one that was all pastel colors and shining with gaudy glitter. His soft, youthful face was lit with large golden brown eyes, and when he lifted his head to meet Takato's gaze it almost looked as though shining stars appeared in his pupils to match his earnest smile. From his back sprouted ornate wings like those of a dragonfly; beautifully delicate and gently quivering with excitement. 

Takato's eyes were wide with awe. He took a cautious step backwards, lifting his arms in defense. "Who..?" He stammered hoarsely. "Who are you supposed to be? What are you even doing here?"

The eager youth hopped down from the bed and offered a hasty bow. 

"I'm here to make your wish come true!!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! We even got to introduce our dakaichi stand-in for the fairy god mother! I thought it would be a good role for him, heh.   
> Please be sure to leave a comment! It really helps keep me motivated and gets these chapters done faster! And feel free to chat with me any time!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
